


Call Me From My Dreams

by plotweaver



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3543431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plotweaver/pseuds/plotweaver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin rouses Bilbo from a particularly disturbing dream. A blatant fix-it for the end of BotFA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me From My Dreams

Hobbits took exceptional care of their feet. Every night they rubbed off the rough bits with an even rougher stone. They soaked them and groomed them and rubbed oils over them before retiring. No sensation was lost to unchecked callouses.

So Bilbo could feel every bite of freezing, hard earth as he ran to Thorin’s side. The rocks sliced open his legs as he dropped to his knees next to the dwarven king. The sharp pain quickly faded to the back of his mind when he saw Thorin’s blank expression.

He was covered in blood, but the dwarven king’s brow remained unfurrowed. Which meant he was beyond pain. 

“Thorin.” Bilbo’s hands shook. He didn’t know where to place them. He had dreamed of combing his hands through Thorin’s hair until his braids lay undone. 

Now the braids were tangled with dried blood, made messy by the chaos of battle. The beads on the ends rattled as Thorin coughed gracelessly.

“I would part from you in friendship.”

"Thorin, don't you dare."

"Master Burglar..."

"No. Thorin, you're going to live. I'm going to take you home. The eagles-" Bilbo jerked his head toward the sky, making sure the giant creatures were still there, flying over them. "The eagles will take us home." He pointed up, but Thorin's eyes did not see. They rolled freely, only focusing every so often on Bilbo before rolling again.

"Farewell, Master Burglar."

"No. No! Thorin!"

The king's eyes focused on nothing now. Not the frost of the mountainside, nor the eagles, nor the hobbit screaming next to him.

"THORIN!"

*

“Wake up! WAKE UP!”

Beads dangled in Bilbo’s face as he slowly opened his eyes.

The bloodstreaked face he had seen moments before now hovered a few inches over his own. 

“Thorin?” he asked, even though he knew it was impossible. 

Orcrist lay on the bed, not far from Thorin’s hand; Bilbo could feel the cool steel through the sheets. Thorin followed Bilbo’s gaze.

“You were screaming as if being attacked. I-“ He gestured to the sword as if the reason for its presence should be obvious.

“Was I really making that much of a fuss?” Bilbo let out a shaky noise that was intended as a nonchalant laugh. He was beginning to accept that this was reality, not the horror of a few minutes ago. It was not such a burdensome thing to accept.

“Never have I heard you in so much pain.” Thorin’s eyes darted over all of Bilbo. His hands twitched as if he meant to touch him. “Are you sure it was only a dream?”

Bilbo did not realize he was lifting his shaky hand to Thorin’s face until he felt the rough beard in his palm. It was longer now that they had reclaimed Erebor. It extended barely an inch or so past his chin. Bilbo could have sworn that Thorin started to turn his face into his palm before he took his hand away.

“It was only a silly fright. You’re here. Alive.”

“Alive?” Thorin drew back. “You dreamt I was dead?”

Pain seized Bilbo’s chest. He did not mean to insult Thorin. 

"I... We were on the mountainside. And Azog. You both... And I was too late."

Thorin hesitated, his eyes wide, giving Bilbo a brief moment to wonder if the king under the mountain had ever comforted someone in near hysterics. He tried desperately to even out his breathing so as not to frighten him further.

Thorin’s hands then quickly darted forward to grab Bilbo's. 

"Feel this now," he said, guiding Bilbo's hands to his heart. After a moment of silence, Bilbo could feel the soft stir of Thorin's heart through his worn sleeping tunic. "My blood still beats, Kidhuzurâl. I am alive."

Bilbo resisted the urge to turn away like a petulant child refusing to be placated by simple explanations. He instead curled his fingers, drawing Thorin's tunic into his fist.

"There was so much blood. And you-" 

Bilbo's throat closed around the words. He turned his head, not wanting to see Thorin. Thorin was a dwarf of considerable stature, however, and had fully made his way onto Bilbo's bed, pressing into Bilbo's space. He dipped his head forward to urge Bilbo to continue, and his braids swayed a little forward, nearly tickling Bilbo's cheek. And he smelled of the sweet oil he rubbed through his hair and beard every morning. And he had been dying a few moments ago. He had been ruddy with blood and dirt and coughing out words of apology and it was too much.

Thorin made a low, frustrated noise in his throat and fisted at the sheets on either side of Bilbo. Dwarrows did not do well with circumvention, either on the battlefield or in conversation.

"You would not say my name. Even in the moment of death, you wouldn't-" Bilbo stopped there, unwilling to devolve back into tears. Not when Thorin was staring at him with such a focus. Bilbo lowered his eyes.

He did not see when Thorin reached forward, only felt it when his thick fingers tentatively combed through his own, golden hair.

Only felt it when Thorin gently guided him back down onto the pillows. Only felt the shift of the mattress and brush of hair as Thorin laid beside him. 

"Bilbo."

The trembling slowed and Bilbo's breathing evened out. Thorin said his name again. It was simple. Two syllables uttered in a low voice with care. Bilbo turned toward Thorin as he said it, feeling the vibrations in his chest as his name entered the air. Thorin's arms came around Bilbo as he said his name a third time. 

"Sleep, Bilbo." 

"I'm afraid."

"Be still." And Bilbo was. "Feel my heart against yours. Know that I am alive. Know that I am here, even in sleep." 

Bilbo did not protest. It was true; he could feel Thorin's heartbeat close to his own, but as he shut his eyes, he knew the nightmares would come. The fear of losing Thorin was too great. It had been too much of a reality during the battle.

Long moments passed before Thorin spoke again.

"I will always be here, Kidhuzurâl." He spoke so softly that Bilbo wondered if Thorin thought him already sleeping. "Bilbo, I will always call you from the nightmares."

Bilbo let go then, relaxed into the hold of his dwarf, and fell asleep.

And that's how Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, began to spend his nights in the bed of a hobbit.

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it! A short, obvious fix-it. I'll leave it up to you to determine the state of their relationship at this time. Also, "kidhuzurâl" means "golden one" in Khuzdul. Just in case you were curious. Please leave me a comment! It helps me know what you like, makes me a better writer, and it keeps me happy for a long time!


End file.
